


Beards

by Cysteine



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Bisexual Jacob Frye, F/F, F/M, Frye - Freeform, Minor Evie Frye/Henry Green | Jayadeep Mir, Minor Jacob Frye/Maxwell Roth, Ned Wynert Needs More Screen Time, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:00:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23745715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cysteine/pseuds/Cysteine
Summary: Evie hates beards, and doesn't understand men.Jacob loves beards, loves men, and doesn't understand how Evie can be so blind.Ned just wants a decent life, but gets caught in a most unusual of love triangles.
Relationships: Evie Frye/Jacob Frye, Evie Frye/Ned Wynert
Comments: 7
Kudos: 10





	Beards

**Author's Note:**

> This is a quick and dirty write-up for a one-shot, conceived and written up within 24 hours. Just needed to get it posted as soon as it was in my head.
> 
> Oh, and obvious Fryecest... don't like? Don't read.

Evie never liked beards. 

Starrick’s was well-maintained yet ludicrous, and Freddie Abberline’s was always an unkempt mess.

Perhaps that’s why she didn’t mind kissing Henry Green. She did mind finding out his name was actually Jayadeep Mir, and that his proposal came with the stipulation of moving to India, play the part of the good little housewife, and to effectively quit being an Assassin. Because even training would be putting a risk to the babies.

Oh yes, the babies. _Plural._

Evie most certainly wasn’t pleased at Jayadeep’s assumption that she’d be a proper little broodmare for the Assassins, ensuring that The Sight they had would be passed onto the next generation. 

She knew due to her research that The Sight they had been genetic, and that rumors circulated that it was originally a gift from “the gods” (aka the Precursor Race). And now that Darwin’s ideas were in vogue, it stood to reason that whatever genetic abnormality (called a ‘blessing’ by some, she thought as she rolled her eyes) had weakened from the legends of having true Eagle Vision.

“What about Pigeons? We seem to have too many here in Sunny London,” Jacob replied, having caught one that had flown into the train one day, “if only we could train one to drop an ampule of the berserk potion on our targets, and let them do the work for us.”

Evie rolled her eyes at the suggestion. “Why not just tie a stick of dynamite to them, light a long fuse, and wish them the best of luck?” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Now you’re thinking, sweet sister.” Jacob replied, leaning over to give his twin a quick peck on the lips.

Evie returned the kiss automatically, before darting her eyes up and down the train to ensure that their secret was still safe.

“You ought to be more careful; others won’t understand.” The shame the felt for loving her brother returned, but felt less constricting over time.

“I don’t care what others think, Evie. We came into this world together, formed in the same womb, it stands to reason that we are meant-”

“-to remember the Creed tells us to hide in plain sight. Despite the successes of your Rooks, you’ve never been too keen to stay in the shadows.” Evie got up from her desk and closed the rear door to the rest of the train hideout.

“Like Ezio did? The Creed is more like… guidelines, and in modern London, we simply can’t openly carry rapiers and broadswords. ‘Nothing is True’ means that the rules have to change with time.” He took a step towards her, grabbing her waist with his strong hands, and pulled her in for another kiss.

“And Everything is Permitted…” Evie replied, kissing Jacob back with all of the desire and passion she had pent up, ending her personal vow of never touching Jacob again when she had first started courting Henry/Jayadeep.

She hated beards, but didn’t mind Jacob’s scruff.

* * *

Evie awoke to a knocking on the train door, her brother and herself barely dressed in the bed that barely could hold them both.

“Miss Frye? It’s Ned. Have you seen Jacob? I have a business proposal for him.”

She elbowed her twin awake, getting up and putting on a dressing gown immediately.

_ Think fast, Evie. _

“Some of the Rooks said they last saw him talking to you.”

_ Damn it all to Hell,  _ she thought,  _ I need an excuse. _

As the train whistle blew, she saw an opportunity. She quickly sucker punched Jacob hard in the face, putting a pillow over him to silence his protest, she called out in reply.

“Jacob’s in here; he got injured in the fight clubs last night and I was looking after him.”

Evie pulled the pillow away to see a scowling Jacob look back at her.

_ ‘Why my left eye?’  _ Jacob mouthed silently, pointing as it was already swelling shut.

Evie pulled back her fist, threatening a second hit.

_ “Would you rather a cracked rib?”  _ she whispered in reply, leaning over to kiss his bruise playfully.

“Oh… do you need me to call a doctor?” 

“Oh, no need… it’s just a shiner.” She replied, composing herself enough as she unlocked and opened the door to him.

Evie was always meticulous with her appearance; hair braided tight to not be used against her in a brawl, layers of fabric with water-hardened leather in her coats to stop most knives and small-caliber bullets, and armed with the gauntlet that held the not-so-hidden blade.

So being in a thin pastel dressing gown, hair down in luxurious curls, and looking much more delicate than a hardened assassin was something that Ned wasn’t expecting.

Ned was, understandably, stunned into silence.

“I, uh…”

Evie also realized how exposed she felt without her proverbial and literal armor on, and knew that any sharpshooter could have taken her out as her guard was completely down.

“Come in, Ned. Or we can meet at the Pub for a pint after I see the butcher for a steak to put on this shiner for a bit.” 

At that, Ned comes in and Evie closes the door, taking a seat and immediately begins to brush out and braid her hair for the day.

“It’s nine in the morning.” Ned replied.

“So I’ll have a breakfast ale.”

The train slowed down for the stop at Whitechapel as Jacob got out of the bed and trudged to the next carriage in nothing but his boxers. Ned blushed and turned away from the view, causing a flicker of jealous annoyance to run through Evie.

“He’s not a shy one, is he, Miss Frye?”

“No, not at all. Not even after getting caught cottaging with Maxwell Roth.”

That seemed to surprise Ned, Evie realized. She had been certain that he was into her twin brother, and that Jacob was flirting with him about liking a bit of sparkle.

“Roth was a monster, through and through. But, uh, I would not have assumed Jacob was a… ponce.”

“He’s still my brother, so… I’d appreciate it if you didn’t get him arrested or hanged.”

As the train came to a full stop, Ned nodded in agreement.

“Of course, Miss Frye.”

Jacob, now dressed for the day, clasped the shorter man on the shoulder.

“Come on, Ned, I need to see a man about a dog.”

* * *

Ned sipped his tea while Jacob finished his steak with a second beer. He couldn’t help but admire the man, even while being somewhat disgusted by his table manners.

“I know how much you don’t like getting saved by me, Ned, but I’d rather not have to defend you against my sister.”

“She’s very protective of you; I can respect that. So the shipment is coming through the Thames-”

“Aren’t you going to ask if I’m a knob jockey or not?”

“I honestly don’t care who you sleep with, Jacob. We all have skeletons in our closet.”

“I already know yours,  _ Henrietta.  _ Why do you think I stopped you from going to jail?”

Ned scowled, leaving coins on the table as he got up. 

“This discussion is over.”

* * *

“Ned, wait!” Jacob huffed, looking after his friend and his beer, trying to decide which one to grab.  _ Sod it, _ he realized, picking up and chugging the bottle before rolling it under the American’s feet. 

Ned’s foot rolled on the bottle, making him stumble and list to the left, and Jacob was there to put an arm around him and help him stagger out of the pub.

“You Frye twins are something else,” Ned muttered, pushing himself off of Jacob. “Look, I keep your secret, and you keep mine, okay?”   
  
“Absolutely; I’ve always treated you like a bloke. Bit of a dandy, dressin’ like that. Might wanna invest in lady company occasionally to reassure others you’re no poofter.”

Ned exhaled, taking in the advice. 

“Okay, maybe, but how am I supposed to…?”

“Focus on her, just ask for singing and cuddles, I dunno. I find men easier to understand than women.”

“I’ll think on it. Wanna hear about the shipment I want diverted? It’s coming on the Thames, and I think that device on your wrist will be key.” Ned asked, pointing to the rope launcher.

* * *

With the Templars chased out of London, and the Rooks keeping the criminal violence to a minimum, Evie didn’t have much to do. Clara had the homeless children well cared for, Karl’s push for unionized workers was gaining support after she helped shut down the sweatshops, and she had helped both the Queen and the Maharaja foil Templar-backed assassinations for regime change. 

Which left her bored. _Utterly, uselessly, bored_.

Perched atop Big Ben, Evie used The Sight to look for trouble. She wondered if the tales of “Eagle Vision” truly meant one could see through the eyes of an eagle, surveying terrain before infiltration.

It would make things easier, like having a mobile sharpshooter in the air to silently take out or distract a target to get past certain defenses. 

Evie closed her eyes and took her leap of faith, feeling weightless as air rushed all along her body, trusting herself to turn and land in the haystack flat on her back. The distance should have killed her, or any other human, but this ability seemed to be attached to The Sight.

As long as she trusted, and aimed for a bed of hay or a body of water… she’d always survive the Leap of Faith.

If only she could make other leaps of faith; to trust a man who is wooing her that she won’t be shackled by maternity. Mother had died to bring herself and Jacob into the world, and as much as she’d love to be a mother someday… it wasn’t worth her life.

“Evening, Miss Frye,” a Rook Driver greeted, tipping his newsboy hat to her, “you comin’ to help Mr. Wynert’s shippin’ heist?”

Evie climbs aboard, adrenaline already pumping. She missed this.

“It’s a slow night, might as well.”

* * *

Jacob’s job was to use the cover of fog to decouple the shipping cargo and lash it to the next ship over, while also attaching a new set of empty shipping rafts to keep the drag rate normal, completely in silence and while the ships were in motion.

Ned had an amazing plan, as he’d be operating the other ship to pinch the cargo. He just didn’t plan for snipers on the bridge.

It took nearly every last smoke bomb he had, but the added cover protected both him and Ned until the Sniper lost the shot completely. After the cargo was secured, Ned took Jacob and the Rooks out for a drink at an underground pub.

It was livelier than most pubs, Jacob first realized, as the men were singing and openly cavorting with each other. Most had come from a play they had done in Southwark, and Jacob’s rooks had been giving them all a wary eye.

“Boss, are we gonna drink with the pikeys?”

Jacob stared down his nervous leftenant. 

“Best to know one’s onions; we can pull more business and have allies when the bobbies come lookin’ ‘round. If you lost your bottle, go home.”

The leftenant and the Rooks nodded at that.

“Yeah, we’re uh… knackered. See ya in the morn.”

The Rooks left, nodding their greeting as Evie tracked her way into the pub.

“You’re welcome, by the way… brother dearest.” the older twin said, taking Jacob’s beer from him for a swig. “Ugh, this is horrid! I’m getting something more palatable.”

As Evie went to the bartender, Jacob saw the way Ned’s eyes followed his twin sister.

“So that’s the way you swing, eh, Neddie? Could do worse.”

* * *

Evie wasn’t a drinker, and she detested the beers that Jacob seemed to fancy. She finally got some gin and tonic, the only good thing she learned from Jayadeep, and made her way to her brother’s table.

Or at least tried to.

“ So bona to vada...oh you! Your lovely eek and your lovely riah… Polone-omi?”

Evie tried to side-step the visibly intoxicated woman who was standing in her path.

“Sorry, I don’t follow.”

Jacob stood, nudging the woman out of the way.

“Uh, dona here doesn’t speak our language.” He said, pulling his sister to the table and relative safety.

“And she’s not into trade, either,” Ned added, “so you best be going.”

The woman sneered in disgust at the pair of men.

“I’ll leave you with the  _ remould _ .”

Ned’s fists clenched at that, only to be stopped by Jacob stepping in the way.

“Yeah, I don’t do tootsie trade, anyways. You’re a little too butch for me.”

The Butch Woman fumed, stalking away in a huff.

“Evie, sister dearest… why are you here?”

Evie took a sip of her gin and tonic, taking in the environment. Jacob was much more at home here than he was at the Queen’s ball, that was certain.

“I think she mentioned something about you owing her thanks, right, Miss Frye?”

Evie raised her glass to the pair of them. 

“You do indeed, baby brother - I took out the sniper with a throwing knife to the head and dumped her in the Thames while you switched the cargo under for Mister Wynert here.”

“Call me Ned, please.”

Evie nods in agreement, “And call me Evie.”

“About that… Jacob tells me you’re  _ Dame  _ Evie Frye and he’s  _ Sir  _ Jacob Frye… if you’re both able to access the House of Lords, I would be much appreciative if you could help me grease some palms.”

“Do you ever stop thinking of work, man?” Jacob asked, gesturing to the rest of the people singing in the pub. “Relax and get on the piss, Ned!”

As the night progressed, the three of them drank, sang, and each went their separate ways as the night grew long.

* * *

Evie liked to think she had good awareness and full control over her faculties. Which made being woken by Agnes all the more confusing.

“Agnes? How did I make it back on the train?”

“That’s beside the point; you insult Bertha by bringing that slapper on board! I run a respectable train for your… well, criminal enterprise… but ladies of the evening should not stay ‘til morning!”

Evie got up, realizing how much the train spun as she stood.  _ Why on earth would Jacob pay for companionship? _ She knew her brother missed men, but-

As she made her way into the next train carriage, she saw Jacob sprawled out, unconscious, draped over the sofa. It was the Rooks in the next carriage that were sheepishly avoiding Evie’s gaze.

“Is there a slag back there with you?”

Their lack of response was clear as day as Dame Evie Frye had to evict Jacob’s latest mistake from the train.

* * *

Ned Wynert did a lot to try and pass as a man in order to build a criminal empire; he moved to the UK, attempted to use coal ash to simulate stubble, even paid forgers to create new documents in his new name.

Attempt to grow stubble with chinese herbs and shaving? Check.

Practicing using a deeper voice, and putting more emphasis in volume instead of pitch? Check.

Finding an understanding woman willing to be his beard, possibly share a life together?

“NED!”

His eyes bolted wide awake, only to see angry blue eyes pierce his own.

“I-”

“-I don’t know what you were thinking, bringing a chippy on here like this is your personal knocking shop!”

“Evie, it’s not-”

“Don’t ‘Evie’ me! What if Jacob were to see this?”

Ned looked around, trying to piece the past few hours back together. There was a woman at the bar, making herself a stiff brandy as a hair of the dog.

“Why would Jacob…? It was his idea.” 

Evie scoffed at that.

“Ah, yes, follow  _ Jacob’s  _ idea to snag a kip to shag on the secret crime hideout train! Are you a  _ complete _ knobhead?” 

Ned admired the loss of Evie’s refined tongue, or at least he would have if not for the terror of being found out. He took the time to realize that he was fully dressed, but the woman whose company he apparently paid for was barely decent.

“I’m sorry, Miss Frye, I’ll get out at the next stop. And take, uh, her with me.”

* * *

Weeks went by without so much as a word from Ned, which Jacob found unsettling. He knew that Ned would eventually pay him and the Rooks for the job, so it was unusual that the smuggling entrepreneur would keep an unbalanced ledger by owing someone.

Evie was even more of a recluse, using her rope launcher as soon as she got off of the train, zipping away to do whatever until she returned late at night. Jacob had assumed that, having ended the engagement with Greenie, that Evie would be making up for lost time with him.

Blokes were much easier to understand for Jacob.

Which meant that his twin, the over-studious Frye, was completely daft when it came to understanding men.

So when he had a scout report a sighting of Evie staking out Ned’s latest hideout, Jacob knew he had to get there before she did something that they would both regret.

The carriage he stole was a two-seater, designed to be small and fast. Jacob knew he was the best behind the reigns, saying soothing things to the horse as he cut through traffic, side-swiping the double decker bus as the Rook that was in the passenger seat below screamed at him to slow down.

“I need to move faster, lass! Feel free to jump out if you want, but I highly suggest you not.”

The Rook agreed and stayed in the carriage as they sprinted across the Strand, wheel lifting from the cobblestones during a tight turn.

“Almost there, Mister Frye! Perhaps we should-”

But Jacob didn’t hear the rest, as he jumped out of the driver perch and ran across the roofs of other carriages, making his way off the road and using his rope launcher to pull himself up to the roof.

The Sight told him that his other half was two rooftops away, perched in a squat and highly focused, obviously utilizing her Eagle Vision on the warehouse below. Jacob took a wide berth, silently stalking his prey to surprise and repay the sucker-punch she gave him weeks before.

He was three meters away when he realized that tears were rolling down her cheeks. It had been over a decade since he had seen his twin cry, and in the moment he took to approach her, Evie rolled on her back, kicking her legs backwards to sweep her brother down. Jacob took the hit, planting his weight and grappled for her ankle, standing up to pull the leg up with him.

“Trying to get the drop on me, brother mine?” Evie asked, using her momentum to kick upwards with her free leg, back-flipping away from her twin.

“Trying to stop you from ruining our profitable business arrangement,  _ sweet sister. _ ”

“Ned has hired the same girl, every three nights, like clockwork. She goes by the name Evelyn, and works the docks as a… I can’t even say it.”

Jacob looked down to see Evelyn, raven curls going down to her elbows, low-cut bodice inviting the eyes to look down towards ample cleavage.

“He’s a man, hiring a woman… seems pretty straightforward, Evie. Ned’s not doing it in our train, so why the bother?”

Evie wiped the tears away with her sleeve, trying to pretend her tears never happened. 

“Thought he was different; turns out I was wrong.”

“Evie, it’s not… you should talk to him. Peacefully.” 

**Author's Note:**

> okay maybe a two-shot, the Muse gave me much more than I expected.


End file.
